


Anywhere I Would've Followed You

by jadebrycin2116



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dementia, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt, Oni, Possession, Sacrifice, Suffering, Unhappy Ending, season 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:33:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadebrycin2116/pseuds/jadebrycin2116
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried to kill his father today, his father and the girl he’s loved since third grade! He wasn’t Stiles anymore. He was a shell of his former self, a monster hiding in his own clothing. </p><p>“If you won’t do it because of your wits, then do it for me.” </p><p>Confused, Scott raises an eyebrow in his best friend’s direction. “What do you mean?” </p><p>“I’m saying…no I’m asking…if you’re my friend, then kill me.” </p><p>“You can’t…you can’t ask me to do that for you Stiles.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere I Would've Followed You

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a combination of last nights ep (Riddled) and me listening to "Say Something" by A Great Big World many many times. 
> 
> It's sad, and un beta'd so be warned.

Before the Nemeton, Stiles couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been in the hospital, at least not as a patient.

He and Scott had had their run ins at the hospital with all of the supernatural things that went on in their town; and sometimes he’d go with Scott to visit Mellissa. As a patient though, well Stiles couldn’t vividly remember the last time he’d actually had to be admitted to a hospital it had been so long.

Never in a million years would he have imagined this though, and if asked, he would tell you he had a pretty vivid imagination. Considering the things he’d seen in the last year or so, it would kind of be hard not to. If Scott could be a werewolf and Lydia a banshee, well anything was possible. He just wishes the anything wasn’t _this_. 

_“You know what they’re looking for, right? It’s called frontotemporal dementia. Areas of your brain start to shrink. It’s what my mother had. It’s the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers. And there’s no cure."_

That’s how he’d described it to Scott. He’d tried to sound as calm as possible when he’d told him, like there wasn’t anything to be scared of. Maybe there wasn’t, if you weren’t afraid of dying at barely seventeen. He’d said it as if it was inevitable, like he’d known his entire life that he was going to die like this and he’d long since accepted, but he needed to help Scott accept it. Stiles wishes that was the case, that might make the go a little easier, but his card had long since been punched. One way or another, well…he knew it was his time to go.

_“Stiles if you have it, we’ll do something…I’ll do something.”_

It sounded nice, but Stiles wasn’t stupid, anything but. He’d never wanted the bite, but if it meant sparing his friends the heartache of his loss, he’d take it.  He’d told Lydia once that death didn’t affect you, it affected the people around you. Only difference was, she had chosen to put herself in harms way. Stiles hadn’t _chosen_ this. It just so happened that he had been dealt the short hand when life had given him his cards. Sure, the bite could fix dementia…but how the hell would the bite fix his mind?

It was evident by now that he was being controlled, he assumed by the monster in his mind spewing off all of those seemingly meaningless riddles. There was nothing the bite could do for that, and if there wasn’t a way to exercise him of this demon, well he knew where this story was going…

The test had confirmed it. The doctor had seen it. His father had seen it. Mellissa had seen it. The only person who hadn’t seen it was Stiles, but that had been of his own choosing. He didn’t need to see some pictures of his brain to know that he was dying. Unlike the rest of them, he could feel it. It was in every dream, every hallucination, every panic attack. His luck was running out. Life was giving up on him, and in return, he was giving up on life.

It wasn’t really fair. But Stiles knew first hand that life wasn’t. First this disease had taken his mother. Then the supernatural had all but consumed the lives of him and all his friends. Finally, here was Stiles, fated to die the same way his mother had and leave his dad behind with nothing. If Agent McCall had his way, the Sheriff wouldn’t even have a badge by the time it was all said and done. God, Stiles hated this.

He tried being optimistic. Once they all realized he wasn’t himself, that he was being controlled, well the way everyone started to help was actually really surprising. It was nice to know they cared about him, including Isaac, even if he was mostly doing it as a favor to Scott. It was like they were all working overtime, reading, researching, talking to people, trying to gather any information that might help him. The gestures were nice but…he’d overheard Allison talking to Scott and he knew that they all knew what nobody had the decency to say.

There wasn’t a cure for what he had, for what possessed him. Maybe it wouldn’t be them specifically, but someone was going to kill him…if the dementia didn’t slowly rot his brain first.

_“Pancakes?”_

“Huh?” Stiles replied, vaguely hearing the request presented to him. He realized now he’d been staring into the fridge, for how long, he wasn’t sure. He’d zoned out for a moment.

His father tried his best to smile through the frown on his face. It was as if he could see Stiles slowly deteriorating in front of him. “I asked if you wanted some pancakes, you know, before you went to school. I made breakfast.”

As much as he wanted to be able to give his father the simple joy of sitting down and eating breakfast, he just couldn’t. He could barely stomach looking at him, not when he was practically abandoning him. He thought it better to keep his distance, at least until the very end. Besides, he hadn’t had much of an appetite lately anyway. He thought being possessed might make you _more hungry_ , but ironically enough, it only suppressed the need to eat…or maybe just the desire. 

“N-no thanks,” he replied, trying to offer a weak smile.

The Sheriff eyed his son up and down, his gaze almost empty as he stared at the nothing his son was slowly starting to become. “Stiles you need to eat something-”

“Yeah, I will…at lunch.”

They both knew he was lying but that had been the end of the conversation. It was pointless to even push trivial things like that anymore. It wasn’t worth the effort and Stiles didn’t have the energy to waste anyway.

School was nothing much, if not a blur of old memories and motions. He tried too burry himself into his work, but it was hard to focus. He could barely remember to take notes when he did go to class, let alone remember the material for a test or a question. It wasn’t like it mattered though. Somewhere along the line, it had spread to all of the teachers and most of the students, that Stiles was doomed to suffer the same tragic fate as one Claudia Stilinski. The faculty could barely stand to look the boy in the eye, let alone fail him on his assignments. At this point he could’ve turned in a blank test and still received an A. 

It isn’t until they learn more about Kira, that they truly understand what their options are. Kira doesn’t know much, but she does know that her parents know more than they’re letting on, her mother especially. She hasn’t asked, and maybe it’s because she feels guilty for her part in Stiles’ possession, but she’s been snooping around more and Mrs. Yukimura definitely knows something about werewolves and Kitsunes…and she definitely knows something about Stiles.

“I don’t want you hanging around the Sheriff’s son,” her mother tells her, “I don’t care if he’s friends with Scott or not. I don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“Are you kidding me mom? How am I supposed to see Scott and not Stiles? He’s always with him! Besides, Stiles is my friend too and if nothing else, he’s dying.”

“Keep hanging around with him and he won’t be the only one of you that turns up dead, trust me,” she says, slowly petting her daughter’s hair and brining her in for a close embrace, “It would be better for you not to get to attached to him anyway Kira. I hate to say it about such an innocent boy, but he was doomed long before we met him.”  

And that’s when she knows. Her mother knows, and she plans to do something about it. Kira could at least tell in her voice that her mother didn’t want to, but it also sounded as if she didn’t really have a choice. Kira doesn’t have many options either, but she does at least tell Scott.  

“So my choices are death by possession, death by dementia, or death by Kira’s mother,” Stiles relays at lunch, if there was any hint of sarcasm in the statement, it was lost on anyone else. “Those are some really good odds.”

Scott, along with everyone else around the table, frowns. “I told you Stiles, that _I_ would do something.” 

“Yeah thanks again for that Scott, but I think you, me, and everyone else at this table knows that being a werewolf will only help me with one of those three things and right now the dementia is the least of my problems.”

He doesn’t mean to sound like such an ass, it’s just…it’s hard to be anything other than bitter and cynical these days. Along with everything else, having to watch his mouth, is utterly exhausting. It’s hard enough to try and keep himself from hurting innocent people on a day to day…and he doesn’t do much a good job at that. Scott and Derek mostly just pick up the pieces.  

Once Coach gets shot, Stiles knows its pretty much a done deal for him. He doesn’t remember setting up the arrow to shoot Coach, but come on…who else could it have been? Besides, he doesn’t remember most things these days anyway. They all know who the hell did it, which is why he hears Aiden calling for his head later that night in his living room.

He hadn’t even been aware that they were all in his house, but he can hear them: Scott, Allison, Isaac, Derek, Ethan, Aiden, Kira, and Lydia.  

“We have to _kill him_ Scott, before he has a chance to hurt anyone else!” It’s Aiden, definitely Aiden. And it’s frantic in there. He can hear struggling, a few things being broken and the sound of several girls sobbing.

“No! You’re not going to touch him!” Stiles can hear the bass in Scott’s voice, like it’s taking everything in him to suppress going wolf and killing Aiden on the spot. It’s nice to know he cares, but he should’ve given up a long time ago.

“You’re not _my_ alpha Scott, I’ll kill him if I want to and I’ll be doing us all a favor. You saw what happened to Coach today! There’s no stopping _it_.” 

It.

He’s barely even a person anymore.

“Aiden stop!” That’s Lydia. She sounds like she might even be crying. “Please, just stop!”  

There’s the very distinct sound of growling before he hears Scott, “If you even _think_ about touching Stiles again, I’ll _kill_ you.” 

It’s not an empty threat. They all know it. Stiles knows it by the way the room goes silent. Scott isn’t a killer, but it doesn’t mean he’s not _capable_ of killing. If he’s threatening Aiden with death, he means it, and for a brief moment it does warm Stiles’ heart…but then he wonders in feeling this way about hearing a death threat is a side effect of the possession or not…

No one really speaks about Aiden’s outburst, mostly because it didn’t come from nowhere. Everyone is thinking what only Aiden had the balls to say. One way or another, Stiles is going to die. Maybe it would be better to kill him?

Hell.

Stiles even wonders it himself a few times, but his sense of self-preservation only lets the thought linger for so long before it switches to something else.  

It’s getting worse though.

The sleepwalking is becoming more common. The hallucinations start to come back. He can’t focus, can’t concentrate, _can’t. fucking. think_.  

It’s like every time he wakes up, all he can think is, _‘what did I do? Who did I hurt? What’s wrong with me?’_

Usually, with the way Scott’s been keeping an eye on him, it’s nothing. But their steady streak of good luck can only last so long…

And then he finds himself staring at Lydia Martin and his father in hospital beds with hospital bracelets on.

How he got into to room, or even to the hospital is beyond him, but whatever happened, he knows it’s his fault. He can tell by the way Scott and Mellissa, Isaac and Allison, even Derek and the twins, are all looking at him.

“Wh-what did I do?” he asks, looking at two of the people he loves most in the world, aside from Scott and his Mom.  

Lydia and The Sheriff don’t look too bad, but they’re both unconscious.

Immediately Scott tries to rationalize it away, “Stiles it wasn’t your fault, you were-”

“Scott no,” he pleads, tears of frustration and utter shame welling up into his eyes, _“What did I do?”_

“You locked them in your garage,” Aiden offers and it almost seems more like an act of pity than it does of spite, “With your dad’s police car running. Carbon Monoxide poisoning, or at least it would’ve been, if Lydia hadn’t screamed.”  

Practically eating away at his bottom lip, Stiles nods. He doesn’t have anything to say. He’s so ashamed of himself he can’t even manage to look up at anyone in the room. It’s hard enough to sit there, so he jumps up and bolts for the door. Of course, someone has to stop him, wrapping their arms around him right before he hits the door.  

“ _Let me go_!” he screams, thrashing around in the strong arms, “ _Let me go!_ ” 

Derek doesn’t falter, “Stiles no. Listen to me, this isn’t your fault.”

Through his tears he begins begging, “Please…I-I can’t be in here…I can’t do this anymore… _Let. me. go_.”

“ _No._ ” And finally Stiles just collapses in his arms, sobbing like baby without a mother and no one even thinks to judge him…

He can’t go home, not by himself and he doesn’t want to. Mellissa offers for him to stay at her home, but he opts out, choosing instead to stay at the hospital. It’s hard enough knowing he tried to kill Lydia and his father. He doesn’t want to live with the pain of attempting to kill his best friend’s mom on his heart too. He doesn’t want to live with the pain of attempting to kill anyone at all…and he knows if he waits long enough, he won’t have to…

Scott finds Stiles on the roof of the hospital. He’s sitting on the edge with his feet dangling, looking more content than Scott’s seen him in a very long time.  

“Stiles?” Scott says, slowly walking up as to not startle him. He doesn’t reply, which Scott takes as in invitation to sit down beside him. He lets out a long sigh of relief, “I thought I would be too late.”

“Too late for what?” Stiles asks, not bothering to look over at him.

Scott pulls out a white piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to his best friend. Stiles doesn’t need to see the paper to know what it is, but he opens it anyway. It’s a note that he left beside his father’s hospital bed.

_‘I’m sorry. I love you._

_…please forgive me.’_

“I came to check on you and I found that. I thought you were gonna jump,” he admits and Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf to sense the fear radiating off of him.

Stiles shrugs before leaning back onto his palms, “’Thought about it. But there’s no need at this point.”

He can hear the relief that washes over Scott in waves. “Thank-” he starts but Stiles cuts him off before he can get his hopes up. 

“Somebody else is going to do it before the night is up anyway.”  

“Stiles what are you-”

“Come on Scott, did you see the way Aiden was looking at me in there? He wants to rip me limb from limb and I hardly blame him and I’m sure Kira’s mom has already caught wind of this. It won’t be long until she comes with her firefly minions to kill me. Somebody is going to kill me.”

“I won’t let them,” Scott affirms, like he’s done time and time again.  

Stiles sighs, before looking over at Scott and attempting a weak smile, “I don’t really think you have a choice Scott.”

“You can’t give up like this Stiles.”

“I’m running out of options. I appreciate you fighting for me Scott but…I can’t keep asking you to come to bat for me in a game we’ve already lost. Just let it happen dude. I mean, we both knew it was going to happen one way or another right?” he attempts a slight chuckle, but it comes out just as lifeless and dead as he feels on the inside.  

“Even if you give up on yourself, I’m not giving up on you Stiles.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” he states honestly, “If you were smart, you would’ve given up on me.”

“I guess I’m an idiot,” he states and Stiles just glares at him because how can he be so fucking optimistic about all of this like it’s a joke. He tried to kill his father today, his father and the girl he’s loved since third grade! He wasn’t Stiles anymore. He was a shell of his former self, a monster hiding in his own clothing.

Stiles turns his glare and then sighs, “If you won’t do it because of your wits, then do it for me.”

Confused, Scott raises an eyebrow in his best friend’s direction. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying…no I’m _asking_ …if you’re my friend, then kill me.” There isn’t a single waver to his voice. His heart rate doesn’t rise or fall. There’s no change in him at all, as if he just said something trivial about school or homework. It’s clear to Scott that he’s been thinking about this for a while.

“You can’t…you can’t ask me to do that for you Stiles.”

“ _Why not?_ ” he asks selfishly, and his tone suggests that he isn’t mad. He’s just frustrated. “I just want this, all of it, to be over. I can’t take it anymore Scott. I can’t keep waking up in strange places, blacking out, wondering if I tried to hurt somebody. I can’t keep fighting with myself. It’s not… _I’m not_ , I’m not me anymore Scott. I know you’re doing everything you can but I’m a lost cause. I can already feel it. Even if by some chance you did manage to save me from this thing that’s controlling me, the dementia isn’t getting any better. It’s like I can feel myself deteriorating every day. It’s only a matter of time before I won’t be able to stop myself anymore…I think that’s why it chose me.” 

“But the bite-”

“I don’t want the bite Scott! I can’t…I can’t live my life like that, that’s not me. It’s been hard enough dealing with this. If I have to live as anything other than myself, I’m not sure it’s worth living.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now Stiles?”

“Do _you_ hear me?” 

Judging by the way Scott is gripping at the edge of the roof, turning the brick to dust underneath his fingers, Stiles can tell he’s upsetting him. He doesn’t mean to, he’s just being honest.  

“How could you ask me to-how could you do this to us? Stiles there’s way too many people out here who love you. I love you dude. How could you say something so selfish?”

“What’s more selfish,” Stiles asks, looking down at the ground underneath them. They’re several stories up on this level. “Me wanting to leave before I hurt more people, or you all asking me to stay because you don’t want to see me leave? All of this blood Scott, it’s on _my_ hands. _I’m_ the one doing these things.” 

“That’s not true Stiles.” 

“Oh really? And who else is there to blame, because I’m pretty sure whoever the hell this demon is inside of me really doesn’t give a fuck.”

“It’s _mine_ ,” Scott says, and he completely throws Stiles off guard. “Because I had all the means to protect you, and I still couldn’t do anything.”

That hurts. It hits Stiles harder than a blow to the chest by a missile. Scott isn’t supposed to be feeling this way. “Scott this isn’t your fault _. You didn’t do this to me.”_

“But I couldn’t help you once it happened either.”

“ _You tri_ -” Stiles opens his mouth to say, but it’s quickly cut off by noises behind them. It sounds like running. “ _Someone’s coming._ ” 

Without hesitation, Scott jumps up to his feet with his teeth bared and his claws out. “Stay behind me.”

“Scott no, _don’t do this_.”

The alpha doesn’t even bother to acknowledge Stiles. There isn’t time to as Aiden busts through the roof doors, Isaac and Ethan close behind, grabbing him and yelling at him to calm down. Just after them comes Mrs. Yukimura with Kira pulling at her coat, tears in her eyes.

_“Please, you can’t do this! He’s just a kid, l-like me. It’s isn’t fair!”_

It’s a tense scene. Aiden is being held back on one side, his ice blue eyes never leaving Stiles, threatening to destroy him the minute he gets the chance. On the other side, Mrs. Yukimura stands gracefully poised, and almost calm. Her face suggests that she doesn’t want to do this, but her body language suggests that this isn’t her first time. Finally, across from them is Scott, ready to battle for his friend, ready to lay down his own life.

“Sc-Scott please, it’s not worth it!” Stiles yells, looking between the two parties here to bring about his untimely demise. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt!”

“He’s going to kill him,” Isaac yells, struggling to hold Aiden back. He’s furious. He did his best to hide it in the hospital room, but it was evident even then that he wanted Stiles dead.

Mrs. Yukimura steps forward slowly, trying not to provoke him. “Scott, please. You don’t know what he’s capable of, what _it’s_ capable of.”

Aiden is much less gentle and rational in his approach. “He tried to kill his own father Scott! His _fa-ther!_ Not to mention Lydia! What makes you think that when this thing takes over, he won’t hesitate to kill all of us?” 

Scott lets out a low growl, “It’s Stiles, he’s not capable of any of that!”

But the thing about it is _, he was_. 

No matter how hard he fought, it kept happening. There was no helping him. Mrs. Yukimura had just said it, they didn’t know what this thing was capable of…

And Stiles didn’t want to find out. He was tired of fighting.

With a deep breath, he took a step to the side and locked eyes with Aiden, hoping to get across just how desperate his was with a glance. He couldn’t ask Mrs. Yukimura. He couldn’t do that to Kira, force her to watch her mother kill a child. At least Aiden had killed before.  

It all happens _so fast_. 

One second Aiden is being restrained and the next, he’s charging across the roof and ramming his claws into Stiles’ abdomen. It’s silent at first, at least to Stiles, until he registers the sound of Kira’s cries and screams in the background. Her mother is covering her eyes and dragging her from the roof in a matter of seconds after that. Stiles is glad. He doesn’t want Kira to watch him die. She’s innocent.   

“Scott no! Stiles!” Isaac yells, because he knows the first thing Scott wants is to get his hands on the omega and destroy him, but Stiles is in trouble.

He’s lying on the ground coughing and bleeding out.

Isaac and Ethan grab Aiden and hold him back before Scott has the chance to murder him in cold blood. The alpha still looks livid, but that quickly changes when the sound of Stiles coughing again is heard. Immediately he runs over and holds his best friend in his arms.

“Stiles, Stiles, hold on okay? I’m gonna get you inside, we’re gonna get you help,” Scotts rambling as he attempts to lift Stiles up but the other boy groans in pain and takes a fistful of his shirt.

“N-no,” blood spatters out of his mouth as he violently coughs, “I don’t want any help.”

“Stiles you can’t give up-”

“I’m not _giving up_ Scott. This is all I have left. If this is the only way I can save everyone, let me do it, please…”  

Scott nods, not even attempting to swallow the lump in his throat or suppress the tears in his eyes, “But we need you dude, _I_ need you.” 

Weakly, the bleeding teen smiles, “Keep an eye on my dad for me okay?”  

“ _Stiles…don’t say that. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay._ ”

“I already am Scott,” he admits, but it’s evident that he’s fading and he’s doing it fast. “I’m gonna be fine now. You think my mom will be there?”

Biting his lip to try and keep his composure, Scott looks away, “I’m sure she will Stiles. I’m sure she’s missed you.”

“I-I hope so…”

“Stiles, stop…stop talking…you need to hold on-”

“Scott?” Stiles says and he attempts to pull Scott in for a final embrace, but his arms can barely hold him. The alpha seems to catch on. “Tell them please, tell them all I was sorry. You’re a good friend and a good alpha, I wish I could’ve seen everything you’re gonna accomplish.”

“They would’ve been your accomplishments too.”

Stiles attempts to nod but winces instead, “I never meant for this to happen.”

“Neither did I.”

“I know dude…I know. I’m so so sorry…” he practically whispers and when Scott pulls Stiles away from his chest, his eyes are closed and there’s no life left in his body. His best friend is gone and for the first time in a long time, Scott wishes he was normal again. He didn’t ask for this, but if someone would’ve told him the price of being a werewolf would eventually be Stiles…

Well he’s not sure what he would’ve done

...but he at least would’ve tried more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> plz tell me what you thought


End file.
